


A Weekend Off

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Daisy Is The Only Marvel Superhero, Director Daisy Johnson, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson is a Daisy Johnson Stan, Phil Coulson's Prosthetic Hand, Picnics, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8849194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: As the title suggests, Daisy and Phil enjoy a weekend off.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts), [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [shortitude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



> Basically this was inspired by the scene of Daisy boxing in Marvel's Agents of SHIELD: Slingshot. (For the record, Chloe Bennet has fabulous shoulders!)

Daisy roughly towels the sweat off her neck and shoulders, then tosses her towel into the used hamper in the corner of the gym before she heads back to the bunks. She wonders if Phil's awake yet: they've actually got a weekend off – no missions whatsoever for them for two days – and she'd left him still sleeping soundly when she'd slipped out of their bed and headed down to the gym for her usual morning workout. Just because she's got two days off from missions is no reason to let her routine go entirely out of the window.

She slips into their room, and is halfway across the room to their ensuite bathroom (a real luxury that she always appreciates), when Phil lifts his head from the pillows and squints at her, bleary-eyed and stubbly, and she feels a rush of love and affection at the sight of him and his grumpy morning face.

"Daisy? What are you doing?"

She crosses to the bed and leans down to rub her nose against his. "Just gonna grab a shower after my workout," she tells him.

He frowns. "We've got the weekend off. Why would you get up early to workout when we've got time off?"

"No need to be lazy just because we don't have any missions for two days," she says, pretty sure she knows what his reactions going to be.

"Daisy," he groans. "You could've stayed in bed an extra hour to snuggle with me."

She can't help chuckling because he's actually pouting at her now. "Aw Phil, did you miss me?"

"I always miss you," he says, with such devastating simplicity that she hardly knows how to respond. "Come back to bed."

"Let me grab a shower first. I'm all gross and sweaty from hitting the punch bag."

He frowns again. "You're never gross, even when you're sweaty," he tells her, ever so seriously.

"You're biased," she tells him, grinning.

"No I'm not."

She chuckles. "Pretty sure you are, but it's okay." She leans back in and kisses him softly. "Let me grab that shower, then I'll come back to bed."

"Okay."

Twenty minutes later, she comes back into their bedroom to find Phil fitting his prosthetic hand in place. He's got incredible bed hair (despite having very little hair to start with), and he looks half asleep still, but she can tell from his vibrations that he's happy at the prospect of spending more time in bed with her.

"Now I smell nice," she tells him, and lifting the comforter, she slips back in beside him.

"Nicer," he tells her emphatically, and she laughs softly. 

"You're such a romantic, Phil." 

He makes an indeterminate noise, then settles back in under the covers beside her, and she shifts into his space so they can cuddle together.

"You're such a workaholic, Director Johnson," he says. 

"Can't help it," she tells him. "A lifetime of being self-disciplined in order to achieve my goals doesn't go away just because I've achieved my goals."

"I know," he says softly, and nuzzles his nose against her collarbone. He hitches his left leg over her legs, as if determined to prevent her from getting out of bed again, which amuses her because they both know that she could easily overpower him if she had to. Fortunately she doesn't have to, or even want to, and she likes Phil tangling his body with hers – his vibrations are humming with contentment (a normal state for him when they're not on a mission), and that makes her feel contented, too.

"What do you want to do today?" she asks after a bit. He's stroking his left hand softly up and down her spine over the tank she put on after her shower, and it's such a relaxing gesture that she thinks she might yet fall asleep again.

"Nothing," he says firmly. "Just this."

She chuckles. "You want to just spend the entire day in bed?" she asks. "What about food?"

He growls low in the back of his throat, then rubs his stubbly cheek against hers. "We've probably got some snacks stashed away," he says.

"Definitely," she agrees. "But – as you're fond of telling me – powdered donuts and Twizzlers don't constitute a healthy diet."

"You're not allowed to work out on days off," he tells her. "You worry too much about healthiness when you've been working out."

That makes her laugh - a proper belly laugh, which makes him chuckle. "Phil Coulson, you're a goofball."

He snorts. "Takes one to know one."

She grins, then rolls him onto his back and shifts to lie on her side next to him. She slides her hand up his chest beneath the t-shirt he's wearing. "I thought it might be nice to go for a picnic," she tells him, and tweaks his nipple.

He gasps, startled, and she grins, then leans in to kiss him, easing her tongue into his mouth, until he moans into her mouth. "Daisy."

"Phil." She moves again so that her sex is pressed against his thigh, and rocks gently. "A picnic," she repeats. "You, me, and Lola in a nice quiet spot. What d'you think?"

"That you're a temptress," he tells her, and she laughs.

"Maybe I am," she says archly, and rocks a bit harder against his thigh, feeling her sex begin to throb. She can also feel his vibrations becoming more energetic – a sign that he's growing aroused. "We could take that picnic hamper you bought – load it up with decadent goodies – and maybe a nice light wine to go with the goodies."

He groans quietly. "Daisy."

"I figured you'd like that idea," she says.

By now they're both thoroughly aroused, so she moves her body over his, and brings them together.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

It's past eight thirty when they finally emerge from their quarters and head downstairs to the kitchen to grab some breakfast, and Daisy notices the knowing looks that both Elena and May direct at her and Phil. She smirks at them both because she knows very well that in her shoes, they'd both have stayed in bed even later than this if they and their partner (Mack or Piper) had a weekend off.

"What are you planning today?" asks Mack as he offers them both a mug of coffee.

"A picnic," Phil says, and the others all blink, clearly surprised.

"It's supposed to be a nice day," Piper observes around a mouthful of wholegrain toast that May's just set on her plate.

"Exactly," Daisy says. "We figured we'd take advantage."

Phil begins, "You're only to call us – "

"If the world's ending. Yes, we know," chorus Elena, Mack, May and Piper simultaneously, cutting him off, and Daisy chuckles. 

"With any luck, the world'll keep itself together for at least one more day," she says. 

"Go, enjoy yourselves," May says, and Daisy figures she would say that since she's the most senior agent of the four.

"That's the plan," Daisy assures her, and smirks as May doesn't quite roll her eyes, before she grabs Piper's arm and leads her away. 

"Que tengas un buen día," Elena tells them, smirking in turn, then she grabs Mack's arm. "C'mon, Turtleman, let's leave the lovebirds in peace."

Daisy chuckles quietly at this, then accepts the two slices of toast with peanut butter that Phil's offering her.

"I think they're jealous," he says, about to lick peanut butter from his thumb.

"Who can blame them?" she asks, leaning over to capture his wrist so she can lick his thumb instead.

"Daisy," he groans.

She smirks, then picks up a slice of toast, and he shakes his head, then prepares his own toast. She watches him fondly, thinking about how nice it is to be this comfortable in a relationship, and yet not at all complacent. They both know the other person has their back no matter what – which is very comforting indeed when they're forever tangling with people who want to kill them or destroy the world, or whatever wacky idea someone comes up with this week. The best thing about being with Phil is that they both want to make each other happy, and that's very easy to achieve because they're always on the same page, and they see the world the same way. Though Daisy would hesitate to use the word out loud to anyone else, she thinks that she and Phil Coulson are actually soulmates – and that's by far the best kind of relationship to be in, she believes.

"Penny for them," he says gently, and she realises she's been staring off into space while she was thinking.

"Too mushy," she tells him, which makes him smirk, of course, because the man is totally into mushy.

"Daisy," he says in his most cajoling tone. "Tell me? Please?"

"Maybe later," she tells him. "Not here."

He lifts a quizzical eyebrow, then nods, and that's another thing she loves about their relationship – he's so incredibly accepting of her – all her quirks and failings and difficulties. He's never, once, in eight years, made her feel less than adequate or capable; he's always trusted her to do the right thing, and always, always accepted her choices, even the painful ones, like when she left SHIELD for months and months after her encounter with Hive – not even Mack quite managed to accept that she was doing what she believed was right, both for herself and for her team. Only Phil accepted her decision, and trusted her to make the right choices during those long months she was away.

He touches the tips of his fingers to the back of her hand, pulling her back out of her reverie for a second time. "Do you want some more toast?" 

She shakes her head, then leans across the corner of the table and kisses him. It's far too private a kiss to be having in such a public space, even if there's no one else around to see them (and she'd sense them if anyone did approach), but she can't help herself.

"I love you, Phil Coulson," she says softly.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling, then he kisses her, a slow, sexy, toe-curling kiss that leaves her breathless. "And I love you, Daisy Johnson." He rests his forehead against hers. "Shall we get out of here?"

"Don't we need to pack the picnic hamper?" she asks, and grins when he pulls back and gives her a totally blank look, as if he'd forgotten that.

"Oh yeah," he says. "I may have gotten carried away." He blushes, which delights her.

"Phil and Daisy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she sings in a low voice.

He gives her a strange look, shakes his head, then chuckles. "Dork," he says fondly.

"Pot. Kettle," she retorts, and they both start laughing. She thinks it's just as well there's no one around to see the Director of SHIELD laughing like a child with her lover.

"C'mon, let's get this sorted out and get out of here," she says when they finally manage to stop laughing.

He nods, and they dump their breakfast things into the dishwasher, set it going, then begin selecting what food they want to take on their picnic. 

Half an hour later the hamper – and its picnic blanket – are in Lola's trunk, and after a quick game of Rock, Paper, Scissors Daisy climbs into the driver's seat. She'll let Phil drive back if he wants, although she knows very well that he loves it when she drives Lola.

As she pulls out of the hangar and into the street, Daisy finds herself wishing that she and Phil could do this more often – just forget about work for a couple of days, and go and do ordinary things, like have a picnic, or even go away on vacation.

And yes, she's the Director of SHIELD, so she could easily give them every weekend off, but she knows that he'd frown on that as much as she herself would – it would be an abuse of her power when the world remains in just as much turmoil as ever. The Sokovia Accords have been repealed, and Inhumans are sort of accepted (as much as any minority group ever is), but there are still hate groups out there, and there are also weird objects, 084s, that threaten everyone's safety. There's just too much work for SHIELD to do for Daisy to ever feel okay with the idea of taking every weekend off, and it wouldn't be fair on the rest of their agents if she did.

"Everything okay?" Phil asks, breaking into her thoughts for the third time this morning. "You seem very distracted this morning."

"Everything's fine," she says. "Promise. Just having too many deep and meaningful thoughts." She says the last four words in a portentous voice, and he laughs, as she knew he would.

"Maybe I can help with those?" he suggests.

"Or maybe you could just distract me into thinking about something nicer?" she counters, and he grins.

"Deal," he says, and she grins back. 

She's quite sure Phil's capable of distracting her in at least one hundred ways. So long as he doesn't distract her from actually driving – and she knows that's not very likely, not when she's driving his beloved Lola.

"Ready when you are," she tells him, and he laughs softly.

She glances over at him, and feels a familiar rush of love and happiness. This, she decides, is going to be a good weekend off.


End file.
